Nearly a year after they released their debut LP, Hello Victor has unveiled their first full-length, “Whatever You Want.” The Kalamazoo band has dusted off the tracks from the LP and coupled them with its brand-new material, making for an unexpectedly fresh album. Hello Victor’s sound on “Whatever You Want” is like the soul of old-timey bayou blues reincarnated in the body of emo-indie, and smoothed over by the catchy sensibility of pop music: think Wilco meets Brand New. The unlikely juxtaposition of country and country-indie against emo and melodramatic pop allows the band to explore limitless creative territory and experiment with sounds and ideas seldom brought to the table in the realm of modern “pop music.”
From the bleary-eyed blues of the opening track “Good Fish” through to its electrified doppleganger, album closer “Gold Fish,” Hello Victor leads us on a self-reflective rollercoaster ride through late adolescence and that awkward time that comes after it: recalling the carefree days of youth, while delving into the frustration, uneasiness and fear that adulthood presents. This notion is perhaps best presented on the album’s second track “Really Me,” which awakens listeners from the twangy opener with vocalist Eric Martin’s jaded proclamation of “Well I missed you for days and days/ but now all I miss is the days that I wasted/ while I was wasted, passed out in cold basements…” and continues to build tension as Martin’s voice rises, eventually releasing into one of the biggest and most memorable choruses on the album.
Bounding into the playful “Is There a Man in That Couch?” --the obligatory pop-sing-a-long and quite possibly the “catchiest” song on the album-- and then powering through the next few tracks, the album continues to roam every corner of indie-pop terrain, reaching an apex in the final moments of the single-y “Put Your Head On Straight,” whose pop-blues guitar riff and kitschy, honky-tonk piano seem less concerned about genre-defying experimentation and more about… well, in a word: fun. From there, it’s a sullen trudge through broken-down ballad “KVK,” which , after the suicidally beautiful verses, erupts into a climactic bridge in which a chorus backs Martin’s emotionally-exhausted lamentations of “I need a break!” while the guitar part soars above it, like a soloist ad-libbing vehement hallelujahs over a gospel choir. The album’s only instrumental track, “1492” features ambient, echoing instrumentation for a foggy, spooky feel, before melting seamlessly into the noir mania of “Mermaids Are Ugly,” which vaguely recalls the percussive-sounding guitar from the verses of “That’s Typical Chelsea.”
From country to indie to emo and back again, “Whatever You Want” is indeed that: a bona fide crowd pleaser. The album’s examination of the harsh realities of life, its throwbacks to times past, and even its good old-fashioned fun make for an interesting journey for the listener, and it seems that Hello Victor is reaching out-- and while the all-over-the-map nature of the album begs the question of whether there’s an end goal to be grasped, or if they’re just grasping at straws, this is an undeniably promising release, lightyears ahead of their own fairly recent debut work-- and, in spite of its complexity, “Whatever You Want” really asks only one question in the end: what’s next?
An alternate version of this review will appear in the August 2010 issue of Recoil Magazine.
Showing posts with label indie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label indie. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Maps & Atlases @ the Strutt [6/24/10]
I'm back from the dead once again; this time with with an epic tale. It's the tale of a show the likes of which I have simply never experienced.
It started simply enough. Jurassic Five was thumping through the speakers as Maps and Atlases loaded in; it was a fucktrillion degrees and there was already a crowd of anxious, sweaty hipsters building at the foot of the stage. The anticipation was palpable when J5 droned into a quick soundcheck.
M&A hit the ground running, with fans cheering from the very first soulful notes that fell from frontman Dave Davison's beard-shrouded visage. They proceeded to weave an unbelievable set, marked by a subtle complexity: a mosaic of folk, rock and indie sounds that cascaded through the body like drops of rain on a sunny day. The watertight drum and guitar syncopation, adorned by Davison's heartfelt, Caleb Followill-esque vocals, blew threw the Strutt like a cool breeze and everybody seemed to forget the asphyxiating heat, set aside their Soft Parade drafts and sang, clapped and danced the rest of the night away. It ended in an explosive 3-song encore, one of maybe 2 or 3 encores I have ever seen at the Strutt (and the only indie-pop show at which I have ever seen anyone slam-dance).
My crew and I sought refuge after the show on the patio of the venue, cooling off and exchanging various show-related nerdery. M& A was loading out and we stopped band members as they walked by (bass player Shiraz Dada and drummer Chris Hainey) saying hi and thanking them for the awesome show. They were not only graciously un-annoyed by our bugging them, but when my friend expressed wanting to have heard "The Ongoing Horrible" during the set, Dave Davison grabbed his Takamine out of their van, and played the song (for an audience of myself, two of my friends and two other fans) as well as a Cast Spells (Davison's solo project) tune, right there on the patio of the Strutt.
Given my fixation on music-writing, I couldn't help but see this moment as an opportunity for an interview. I felt somewhat guilty for this inclination for a couple reasons-- one, because as a musician myself I felt bad for taking him away from his bandmates, who were in the grueling process of van-loading; two, because he was already giving us a once-in-a-lifetime acoustic/ solo mini-set AFTER playing an hour-long show with his band-- but could simply not help squeezing in a couple subtle questions (that's ok, right?).
Davison ruminated on songwriting, giving a nod to their artful and quirky approach to lyrics: "I think there's like a balance of having a raw idea that's more abstract, rather than the idea itself being how raw [the song] is." This "raw-ness" and lyrical honesty is a large part of Maps & Atlases' prowess in the indie community, with lyrics (predominately on their latest release, "Perch Patchwork") that contain colorful imagery and abounding "that's fun to say!" wordplay (see: the Shins; Fruit Bats). Davison first picked up a guitar when he was seven, hasn't really put it down since: "It's hard to say [how much I play.] I pretty much just play all day. Just hang out." Must be nice.
After many promises that we wouldn't put my friend's phone videos of Davison's performance on YouTube (despite voices of skepticism from certain bandmates), we bid Davison and the rest of Maps & Atlases adieu and moved on into the night, with the muffled modulations of J5 still thudding, echoing like footsteps behind us.
Maps and Atlases will be playing Aug 5 in Ann Arbor.
It started simply enough. Jurassic Five was thumping through the speakers as Maps and Atlases loaded in; it was a fucktrillion degrees and there was already a crowd of anxious, sweaty hipsters building at the foot of the stage. The anticipation was palpable when J5 droned into a quick soundcheck.
M&A hit the ground running, with fans cheering from the very first soulful notes that fell from frontman Dave Davison's beard-shrouded visage. They proceeded to weave an unbelievable set, marked by a subtle complexity: a mosaic of folk, rock and indie sounds that cascaded through the body like drops of rain on a sunny day. The watertight drum and guitar syncopation, adorned by Davison's heartfelt, Caleb Followill-esque vocals, blew threw the Strutt like a cool breeze and everybody seemed to forget the asphyxiating heat, set aside their Soft Parade drafts and sang, clapped and danced the rest of the night away. It ended in an explosive 3-song encore, one of maybe 2 or 3 encores I have ever seen at the Strutt (and the only indie-pop show at which I have ever seen anyone slam-dance).
My crew and I sought refuge after the show on the patio of the venue, cooling off and exchanging various show-related nerdery. M& A was loading out and we stopped band members as they walked by (bass player Shiraz Dada and drummer Chris Hainey) saying hi and thanking them for the awesome show. They were not only graciously un-annoyed by our bugging them, but when my friend expressed wanting to have heard "The Ongoing Horrible" during the set, Dave Davison grabbed his Takamine out of their van, and played the song (for an audience of myself, two of my friends and two other fans) as well as a Cast Spells (Davison's solo project) tune, right there on the patio of the Strutt.
Given my fixation on music-writing, I couldn't help but see this moment as an opportunity for an interview. I felt somewhat guilty for this inclination for a couple reasons-- one, because as a musician myself I felt bad for taking him away from his bandmates, who were in the grueling process of van-loading; two, because he was already giving us a once-in-a-lifetime acoustic/ solo mini-set AFTER playing an hour-long show with his band-- but could simply not help squeezing in a couple subtle questions (that's ok, right?).
Davison ruminated on songwriting, giving a nod to their artful and quirky approach to lyrics: "I think there's like a balance of having a raw idea that's more abstract, rather than the idea itself being how raw [the song] is." This "raw-ness" and lyrical honesty is a large part of Maps & Atlases' prowess in the indie community, with lyrics (predominately on their latest release, "Perch Patchwork") that contain colorful imagery and abounding "that's fun to say!" wordplay (see: the Shins; Fruit Bats). Davison first picked up a guitar when he was seven, hasn't really put it down since: "It's hard to say [how much I play.] I pretty much just play all day. Just hang out." Must be nice.
After many promises that we wouldn't put my friend's phone videos of Davison's performance on YouTube (despite voices of skepticism from certain bandmates), we bid Davison and the rest of Maps & Atlases adieu and moved on into the night, with the muffled modulations of J5 still thudding, echoing like footsteps behind us.
Maps and Atlases will be playing Aug 5 in Ann Arbor.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Bird Rights: a Phoenix Rising (artist feature)
Warning: checking out this new Grand Rapids-area band may cause a mild case of déjà vu. If seeing the basketball-jersey-clad Boyea brothers onstage, crafting a unique brand of indie rock based on love, life, and wonder induces that woozy-wonderful headrush, don’t worry; it’s not you, or your memory-- Bird Rights is the reincarnation of the brothers’ former band, the Flowbs-- or, it could just be a side effect of their dreamy, melodic, indie-meets-shoegazer tunes (think an indie-er Snow Patrol, or a chilled-out Bloc Party).
The Boyeas, rounding themselves out to a trio with drummer Spencer Engler, have traded the more hyper façade associated with the Flowbs-- with their tendencies towards uptempo rock, at times leaning toward ska and pop-punk-- for stripped-down balladry, characterized by a delicious subtlety and a haunting ambience, underscored by flawless melodies and thought-provoking lyrics. Their lyrics, based on introverted reflections on life-- particularly transition (look out for their first single as Bird Rights, “Nightmare”) and reinvention, a very real theme for the band at this point-- tend to be at once brave and vulnerable; juxtaposed against lightly-distorted guitars and shimmery, gentle percussion, the combination is haunting, undeniably radio-ready and likely destined for solo sing-a-longs on lonely drives home and sober mornings-after.
Like the proverbial phoenix, Bird Rights confidently rise from their former rocker selves into the mature, thoughtful crew we see today: amazingly unpretentious and humbly self-assured. The evolution is duly reflected in their newly-released material; for example, on the aforementioned single “Nightmare,” singer/ principle songwriter Luke Boyea proclaims “I’m gonna climb these castle walls/ I don’t care if I fall/ I’m not gonna die here,” and continues throughout the band’s new material to evoke feelings of determination, frustration, and, ultimately, confidence; there is certainly a palpable sense that these guys have found their stride. And it seems rightfully so: according to the band, singer Luke Boyea has “developed the swag and appropriate ego of a great front man,” and, alongside his brother Eric’s “imaginative guitar playing” and Engler’s “groove-based beats” the trio seems poised for greatness; Bird Rights have settled softly into their newfound niche as not just musicians, but craftsmen: gloriously reviving the lost art of the ballad, most effective on the lovelorn gem “Owl Man,” whose twinkley guitar parts alongside the depth of a striking piano melody makes for a listening experience you won’t soon forget.
With their feet squarely in the door of Grand Rapids’ music scene, Bird Rights have had no trouble setting up shop as the new band on the block, and will begin playing shows as early as April 9th (at Brewstirs) and May 7th (at the Intersection).
[Editor's Note: look for this review in the April '10 issue of Grand Rapids' Recoil Magazine!]
Addendum: this is my 40th post!! Now go crack a frosty Oberon.
The Boyeas, rounding themselves out to a trio with drummer Spencer Engler, have traded the more hyper façade associated with the Flowbs-- with their tendencies towards uptempo rock, at times leaning toward ska and pop-punk-- for stripped-down balladry, characterized by a delicious subtlety and a haunting ambience, underscored by flawless melodies and thought-provoking lyrics. Their lyrics, based on introverted reflections on life-- particularly transition (look out for their first single as Bird Rights, “Nightmare”) and reinvention, a very real theme for the band at this point-- tend to be at once brave and vulnerable; juxtaposed against lightly-distorted guitars and shimmery, gentle percussion, the combination is haunting, undeniably radio-ready and likely destined for solo sing-a-longs on lonely drives home and sober mornings-after.
Like the proverbial phoenix, Bird Rights confidently rise from their former rocker selves into the mature, thoughtful crew we see today: amazingly unpretentious and humbly self-assured. The evolution is duly reflected in their newly-released material; for example, on the aforementioned single “Nightmare,” singer/ principle songwriter Luke Boyea proclaims “I’m gonna climb these castle walls/ I don’t care if I fall/ I’m not gonna die here,” and continues throughout the band’s new material to evoke feelings of determination, frustration, and, ultimately, confidence; there is certainly a palpable sense that these guys have found their stride. And it seems rightfully so: according to the band, singer Luke Boyea has “developed the swag and appropriate ego of a great front man,” and, alongside his brother Eric’s “imaginative guitar playing” and Engler’s “groove-based beats” the trio seems poised for greatness; Bird Rights have settled softly into their newfound niche as not just musicians, but craftsmen: gloriously reviving the lost art of the ballad, most effective on the lovelorn gem “Owl Man,” whose twinkley guitar parts alongside the depth of a striking piano melody makes for a listening experience you won’t soon forget.
With their feet squarely in the door of Grand Rapids’ music scene, Bird Rights have had no trouble setting up shop as the new band on the block, and will begin playing shows as early as April 9th (at Brewstirs) and May 7th (at the Intersection).
[Editor's Note: look for this review in the April '10 issue of Grand Rapids' Recoil Magazine!]
Addendum: this is my 40th post!! Now go crack a frosty Oberon.
Their Teeth Will Be of Lions "True Stories Are Harder To Make Up" review
Kalamazoo indie rock seven-piece their Teeth Will Be of Lions is back and better than ever, taking their already larger-than-life sound to even greater heights than expected.
True Stories Are Harder To Make Up-- specifically designed to be listened to on vinyl-- “forc[es] us to use our time wisely,” proclaims the album’s liner notes. And time is, indeed, a very conspicuous force on this album: with genre-spanning tempo changes from song to song (and, often, within the songs themselves), Teeth’s sonic repertoire ranges from melodic vocal parts, decorated by piano, acoustic guitar, and even Sufjan Stevens-esque banjo, into Aeolian bursts of sound, at times channeling the arena-rock intensity of Muse, Coheed and Cambria, and the Foo Fighters.
With a risk-taking exploration of new themes and ideas alongside a wider range of tempos, genres and sounds than we ever thought possible-- and, of course, the unforgettable theatricality for which Their Teeth Will Be of Lions has become known-- True Stories are Harder to Make Up smashes expectations and firmly re-establishes their place in the local (and statewide) scene. The A-Side flows from an instrumental hard-rock intro, to the frustrated yawp at capitalist culture that is “Nickels and Dimes,” and through the epic “I Went To Minnesota Not To Be Alone (I Lost My Way Home),” pushing through every conceivable tempo and song structure, and creating a mosaic of concept-driven art rock (think an indie-rock "Bohemian Rhapsody"). The B- Side, in turn, does not disappoint: at first appearing to shift gears from the A-Side completely, the dance-floor-ready “Everyone Made It Out Alive” (an apparent homage to their 2007 debut album Everyone Made It Out Alive… Almost!) kicks it up several notches with 21st century-style disco, moving unexpectedly into the bounding rock of “Brown Sugar Body Bags” and, eventually, into the haunting last track, on which half-spoken vocals decorate a melancholy piano melody, creating a pleasingly suspenseful feel, leaving listeners simultaneously satisfied and wanting more.
In short, True Stories contains every ounce of energy found on Everyone Made It Out Alive... Almost!, but with none of the silliness, and the depth they exhibited on The Death... The Reincarnation...And The Unfamiliar Tales Of:, but with more urgency, showing off their ever-growing confidence and the chops they’ve earned as indie veterans of the Kalamazoo scene. Teeth takes their sound to new heights, proving themselves in the face of new expectations, and leaving listeners with only one question: where will Their Teeth Will Be of Lions go next? There’s simply no telling… and it seems that‘s exactly the point.
True Stories Are Harder To Make Up is to be released at The Strutt in Kalamazoo on April 17th, 2010.
[***Editor's note: press copy of "True Stories Are Harder to Make Up" courtesy of Glen of TTWBOL; who now has a solo project you can find here***]
True Stories Are Harder To Make Up-- specifically designed to be listened to on vinyl-- “forc[es] us to use our time wisely,” proclaims the album’s liner notes. And time is, indeed, a very conspicuous force on this album: with genre-spanning tempo changes from song to song (and, often, within the songs themselves), Teeth’s sonic repertoire ranges from melodic vocal parts, decorated by piano, acoustic guitar, and even Sufjan Stevens-esque banjo, into Aeolian bursts of sound, at times channeling the arena-rock intensity of Muse, Coheed and Cambria, and the Foo Fighters.
With a risk-taking exploration of new themes and ideas alongside a wider range of tempos, genres and sounds than we ever thought possible-- and, of course, the unforgettable theatricality for which Their Teeth Will Be of Lions has become known-- True Stories are Harder to Make Up smashes expectations and firmly re-establishes their place in the local (and statewide) scene. The A-Side flows from an instrumental hard-rock intro, to the frustrated yawp at capitalist culture that is “Nickels and Dimes,” and through the epic “I Went To Minnesota Not To Be Alone (I Lost My Way Home),” pushing through every conceivable tempo and song structure, and creating a mosaic of concept-driven art rock (think an indie-rock "Bohemian Rhapsody"). The B- Side, in turn, does not disappoint: at first appearing to shift gears from the A-Side completely, the dance-floor-ready “Everyone Made It Out Alive” (an apparent homage to their 2007 debut album Everyone Made It Out Alive… Almost!) kicks it up several notches with 21st century-style disco, moving unexpectedly into the bounding rock of “Brown Sugar Body Bags” and, eventually, into the haunting last track, on which half-spoken vocals decorate a melancholy piano melody, creating a pleasingly suspenseful feel, leaving listeners simultaneously satisfied and wanting more.
In short, True Stories contains every ounce of energy found on Everyone Made It Out Alive... Almost!, but with none of the silliness, and the depth they exhibited on The Death... The Reincarnation...And The Unfamiliar Tales Of:, but with more urgency, showing off their ever-growing confidence and the chops they’ve earned as indie veterans of the Kalamazoo scene. Teeth takes their sound to new heights, proving themselves in the face of new expectations, and leaving listeners with only one question: where will Their Teeth Will Be of Lions go next? There’s simply no telling… and it seems that‘s exactly the point.
True Stories Are Harder To Make Up is to be released at The Strutt in Kalamazoo on April 17th, 2010.
[***Editor's note: press copy of "True Stories Are Harder to Make Up" courtesy of Glen of TTWBOL; who now has a solo project you can find here***]
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Communist Musicfesto [part 3: Wheatland]/ Recent Discoveries
First things first: apparently Wheatland has not announced their 2010 lineup yet this year... my bad. (If they have and I just haven't found it, lemme know!) What I have gleaned is that tickets go on sale in May, so hopefully we will all have some more info by then.
Luckily, there are some more things in the proverbial news. I feel like changing things up a bit, so this post is going to be kind of all over the place. Here are some of my recent local discoveries:
[Fishlips]
This is a band I've been meaning to review for quite some time (mostly to save my Myspace inbox). I haven't caught this band's live show yet, so all I have to go by is what's on their Myspace. But, I'll start with their words, instead of mine, both to be fair and to give you an idea of what they're like: in the "genre" line of their Myspace they have: "Comedy/ Acoustic/ Rock."
Take what you will from that and we'll do a track-by-track rundown of their posted jams.
1.) "Delyla" You might remember a ubiquitous Top-40 Single about a lady of the same name (albeit correctly spelled in that instance.) And, ringing it at just under two minutes, this song (Fishlips') is that much less painful, and just as listenable (read: barely).
2.) "The Last Thing I Remember" This 6:8-tempo ballad has a little bit of a waltzy feel to it that's actually quite appealing; however, musically, it's sort of an inexplicable match for what is, lyrically, a hangover narrative: "What happened to the mirror, who broke the furniture? Did we have a party or did we have a fight?" This song is actually really well put-together: with its melancholy strumming and a gentle melody, with the right lyrics over it, this song could work a lot better than it does.
3.) "TimeCard" (inexplicably one word). "Punchin' in my time card, I'm still three sheets to the wind;" I'm picking up on a theme here! Another morning-after ditty-- probably my favorite of the bunch-- this song is a little more uptempo, still acoustic, and exhibits their best use of the sought-after Catchy Chorus. This is also their best use of backup vocals, with a pleasing harmonies on the chorus and throughout. However (and there's always a however, right?) this also contains some inexplicable horror-movie "MUAHAHAHA" overdubs (why, guys? Why?) and the positively cringe-worthy rhyme of "oh my my, oh hell yes" with "party dress" (...where have I heard that before? C'mon now. There's a difference between an homage and an all-out ripoff).
4.) "Billy's Lighter" I'm not entirely sure what this song is about... I think lighting a dog on fire? I guess it's not important...
This song, perhaps the most "country" of the bunch, is decorated with some bayou-harmonica for a pretty nice effect. It gets a little busy through, with some parts that end up sounding like they have 100 vocal parts.
5.) "If I Had a Hammer" Opening lines: "If I had a hammer/ I'd hammer your brains in/ Smash all your teeth out and bury you in the yard/ It wouldn't be hard." Comedy? This schizophrenic jingle, more than a little on the frightening side lyrically-speaking, and more than a little on the bland side musically-speaking, is another country tune... when I could ignore the scary lyrics and listen to the music and the melody (which took several listens to accomplish) I quite liked this song. But dude.
6.) "Lay Your Carpet" This contains another chorus I'm pretty fond of. I could see it as an intro/ montage song in a latter-day Adam Sandler movie. But when the vocal line dips from normal to an obnoxious growl, it's fist-clenchingly, eye-rollingly bad.
7.) "Alzheimers" Ok. I was about to say that I really liked this song! (Which I do!) But, in a strange and quite unprofessional (if I may say so) move, they included as part of this recording an OVER-TWO-MINUTE-LONG voicemail from their harmonica player, Muffin, re: quitting their band. I'm completely puzzled by this. Completely.
The bottom line. Fishlips: stop fucking around. I can tell that you guys are working with some good stuff musically and creatively. Take out the overdubs, the creepy vocal dips, the "comedy" and the goddamn voicemail-- and I'd love to see what happens.
[Cullen Anderson]
You might have guessed by now that writing about music is not my job; in fact, I work in advertising, and if I was going to write a commercial about Cullen Anderson, it would go something like this:
[VO {"voice-over," for the lay-person} by a smooth, almost too-smooth, like, MORMON-smooth voice: "Life is full of simple pleasures. Some say these are the best things in life. Meet Cullen Anderson."]
Believe it or not, that really is my job.
Anyway. I was privileged to be able jam with this dude last weekend. From what I remember it was a hell of a lot of fun. And somehow, he managed to impress me.
With gentle, four-chord guitar parts and an incredible voice-- a husky, vibrato-heavy croon vaguely reminiscent of John Popper or Chris Robinson-- Anderson weaves well-rounded, campfire-singalong-ready, acoustic easy-listeners. Aside from the relatively more-complicated "Get 2 U" (available on his Myspace; I highly recommend checking it out), which adds a drum part and electric guitar, they're all just stripped-down, acoustic-and-voice duos: simple, and a pleasure to hear: the kind of music that just makes you smile. Anderson is a wizard with vocal parts; using his voice as an instrument in and of itself, he takes the simplicity of acoustic-and-voice sound and ups the proverbial ante with another dimension of sound, allowing the vocal part to decorate the guitar sound, and not the other way around. Simply awesome.
He doesn't have any shows listed on his Myspace, but I have a feeling he'll be playing in a garage somewhere around here; I'll keep you posted.
[Dead Scene Radio]
Ok, ok, I can't really file DSR under a "recent discovery;" I've seen these guys several times in bars and basements all over Kalamazoo. But they have some exciting stuff going on and I'm tryin'a keep you posted, b!
With rumblings of a full-length TBR sometime next month, I think we're all pretty stoked... I know I am. At the forefront of Kzoo indie-pop, DSR concocts some of the catchiest stuff I've heardfrom a local band EVER. Duly billed as "powerpop," one tries desperately not to compare them to the Plain White T's, who have (unfortunately) become almost synonymous with the powerpop style; however, these guys sound a lot more like the Beach Boys time-machined into the indie movement.
Wisely starting their Myspace track-list with the poppy jam "Don't You Know," DSR weaves percussive, flashy guitar parts, intricate basslines and an adrenaline-surge of a chorus into a college-radio anthem the likes of which I haven't heard in a long time. After an ADD-conscious guitar solo, they tie it up with a clap-along chorus (the first word in catchy) toward the end, leaving the listener breathless and eager for the next track.
They follow suit throughout the rest of their tracks, reminiscent of everyone from Alkaline Trio to Belle and Sebastian to the Dead Kennedys. At least to a nerd like me.
Suffice it to say I'm stoked for their full-length, and even though I won't be able to catch them at
----> THE STRUTT THIS FRIDAY <----
I'm strongly urging you to.
Well, kids, that's all for today. In the works: EXCLUSIVE [t.v.j.] INTERVIEW with neo-glam hard rockers GHOSTS OF THE GREAT LAKES (featuring a new bass player, Ben Bojanich, formerly of Jealous Radio). Be on the lookout for this, as it is sure to be juicy.
Luckily, there are some more things in the proverbial news. I feel like changing things up a bit, so this post is going to be kind of all over the place. Here are some of my recent local discoveries:
[Fishlips]
This is a band I've been meaning to review for quite some time (mostly to save my Myspace inbox). I haven't caught this band's live show yet, so all I have to go by is what's on their Myspace. But, I'll start with their words, instead of mine, both to be fair and to give you an idea of what they're like: in the "genre" line of their Myspace they have: "Comedy/ Acoustic/ Rock."
Take what you will from that and we'll do a track-by-track rundown of their posted jams.
1.) "Delyla" You might remember a ubiquitous Top-40 Single about a lady of the same name (albeit correctly spelled in that instance.) And, ringing it at just under two minutes, this song (Fishlips') is that much less painful, and just as listenable (read: barely).
2.) "The Last Thing I Remember" This 6:8-tempo ballad has a little bit of a waltzy feel to it that's actually quite appealing; however, musically, it's sort of an inexplicable match for what is, lyrically, a hangover narrative: "What happened to the mirror, who broke the furniture? Did we have a party or did we have a fight?" This song is actually really well put-together: with its melancholy strumming and a gentle melody, with the right lyrics over it, this song could work a lot better than it does.
3.) "TimeCard" (inexplicably one word). "Punchin' in my time card, I'm still three sheets to the wind;" I'm picking up on a theme here! Another morning-after ditty-- probably my favorite of the bunch-- this song is a little more uptempo, still acoustic, and exhibits their best use of the sought-after Catchy Chorus. This is also their best use of backup vocals, with a pleasing harmonies on the chorus and throughout. However (and there's always a however, right?) this also contains some inexplicable horror-movie "MUAHAHAHA" overdubs (why, guys? Why?) and the positively cringe-worthy rhyme of "oh my my, oh hell yes" with "party dress" (...where have I heard that before? C'mon now. There's a difference between an homage and an all-out ripoff).
4.) "Billy's Lighter" I'm not entirely sure what this song is about... I think lighting a dog on fire? I guess it's not important...
This song, perhaps the most "country" of the bunch, is decorated with some bayou-harmonica for a pretty nice effect. It gets a little busy through, with some parts that end up sounding like they have 100 vocal parts.
5.) "If I Had a Hammer" Opening lines: "If I had a hammer/ I'd hammer your brains in/ Smash all your teeth out and bury you in the yard/ It wouldn't be hard." Comedy? This schizophrenic jingle, more than a little on the frightening side lyrically-speaking, and more than a little on the bland side musically-speaking, is another country tune... when I could ignore the scary lyrics and listen to the music and the melody (which took several listens to accomplish) I quite liked this song. But dude.
6.) "Lay Your Carpet" This contains another chorus I'm pretty fond of. I could see it as an intro/ montage song in a latter-day Adam Sandler movie. But when the vocal line dips from normal to an obnoxious growl, it's fist-clenchingly, eye-rollingly bad.
7.) "Alzheimers" Ok. I was about to say that I really liked this song! (Which I do!) But, in a strange and quite unprofessional (if I may say so) move, they included as part of this recording an OVER-TWO-MINUTE-LONG voicemail from their harmonica player, Muffin, re: quitting their band. I'm completely puzzled by this. Completely.
The bottom line. Fishlips: stop fucking around. I can tell that you guys are working with some good stuff musically and creatively. Take out the overdubs, the creepy vocal dips, the "comedy" and the goddamn voicemail-- and I'd love to see what happens.
[Cullen Anderson]
You might have guessed by now that writing about music is not my job; in fact, I work in advertising, and if I was going to write a commercial about Cullen Anderson, it would go something like this:
[VO {"voice-over," for the lay-person} by a smooth, almost too-smooth, like, MORMON-smooth voice: "Life is full of simple pleasures. Some say these are the best things in life. Meet Cullen Anderson."]
Believe it or not, that really is my job.
Anyway. I was privileged to be able jam with this dude last weekend. From what I remember it was a hell of a lot of fun. And somehow, he managed to impress me.
With gentle, four-chord guitar parts and an incredible voice-- a husky, vibrato-heavy croon vaguely reminiscent of John Popper or Chris Robinson-- Anderson weaves well-rounded, campfire-singalong-ready, acoustic easy-listeners. Aside from the relatively more-complicated "Get 2 U" (available on his Myspace; I highly recommend checking it out), which adds a drum part and electric guitar, they're all just stripped-down, acoustic-and-voice duos: simple, and a pleasure to hear: the kind of music that just makes you smile. Anderson is a wizard with vocal parts; using his voice as an instrument in and of itself, he takes the simplicity of acoustic-and-voice sound and ups the proverbial ante with another dimension of sound, allowing the vocal part to decorate the guitar sound, and not the other way around. Simply awesome.
He doesn't have any shows listed on his Myspace, but I have a feeling he'll be playing in a garage somewhere around here; I'll keep you posted.
[Dead Scene Radio]
Ok, ok, I can't really file DSR under a "recent discovery;" I've seen these guys several times in bars and basements all over Kalamazoo. But they have some exciting stuff going on and I'm tryin'a keep you posted, b!
With rumblings of a full-length TBR sometime next month, I think we're all pretty stoked... I know I am. At the forefront of Kzoo indie-pop, DSR concocts some of the catchiest stuff I've heard
Wisely starting their Myspace track-list with the poppy jam "Don't You Know," DSR weaves percussive, flashy guitar parts, intricate basslines and an adrenaline-surge of a chorus into a college-radio anthem the likes of which I haven't heard in a long time. After an ADD-conscious guitar solo, they tie it up with a clap-along chorus (the first word in catchy) toward the end, leaving the listener breathless and eager for the next track.
They follow suit throughout the rest of their tracks, reminiscent of everyone from Alkaline Trio to Belle and Sebastian to the Dead Kennedys. At least to a nerd like me.
Suffice it to say I'm stoked for their full-length, and even though I won't be able to catch them at
----> THE STRUTT THIS FRIDAY <----
I'm strongly urging you to.
Well, kids, that's all for today. In the works: EXCLUSIVE [t.v.j.] INTERVIEW with neo-glam hard rockers GHOSTS OF THE GREAT LAKES (featuring a new bass player, Ben Bojanich, formerly of Jealous Radio). Be on the lookout for this, as it is sure to be juicy.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
UFOs! The Re-Appearance of Angel! Severed toes! MUST BE HALLOWEEN!
I hope you've all slept off your respective Halloween hangovers. I know I have. If by "slept off" I mean MOVED. TODAY. Like moving doesn't suck enough.
But let's just say I had a Halloween blast. Which is rare, and also ironic, because I HATE HALLOWEEN. That's right. I said it. But, suffice it to say, Halloween: 21; Meg: 0. I always say I'm not going to do anything for Halloween because it is just a dangerous, awkward waste of time, an appalling capitalist mechanism, etc, etc, etc-- but I always go.
But, it all started on the actual night of Halloween, when I was meeting my folks for a very low-key, very Mexican, very anti-Halloween dinner. But, as I was getting in my car, it dawned on me that this is the first year that I have not heard "The Monster Mash!" Anywhere! At all! Its hard to admit, but as a lifelong Midwesterner, I felt a secret pang of guilt for my blatant ignoring of our collective favorite nod to the occult. For some reason, this year I went off-the-rails crazy Halloween-Scrooge to a level that even I have not yet reached. So maybe I did hear it and just repressed it. But I don't think so. So anyway, I get to Mi Ranchito, and then there is this bartender (who, I regret to say, knows me and everyone in my family by name) dressed like Charlie Brown who pours me a shot on the house, a "Dirty Girl Scout" (hey-oh), and after that, I was a lot more in the Halloween spirit (and couldn't stop saying "hey-oh!" for some reason). And then, at one point, I realize I'm texting everyone I know asking what they are doing tonight, and although I was recovering from a cold, some Halloween miracle stipulated that the duration of my moonlight as Nastycough McSleepsallday was over (or something to that effect).
I wanted to see some music. So, one perpetually-grouchy doorman and a $7 cover charge later, I found myself at the Covert Operations show at Papa Pete's. After nearly an hour of watery drinks and almost-crunchy jams, I found my faith in Halloween yet unrestored.
Usually, I probably would have just settled for the usual drunken stumble around the student ghetto as a vacuous legionnaire of a pathetic college alcoholiday. But, I was in the jam band spirit. You see, I had gone to:
DISCO BISCUITS AT STATE THEATRE 10/28 (did you like what I did there? Segway into a heading?)
Ok, you're right, it's one of my cardinal Blog Rules of Thumb* that I don't write about shows I see not-sober. So I'm not going to go on and on about this vibe and this mechanical flawlessness and this meticulous execution and whatever else I talk about in this strange forum I've vainly and inexplicably created.
--I digress; the show. Um-- I haven't seen a jam band since Rothbury. And that was Umphrey's McGee, just after the Dead, backlit by an amazing display of 4th of July fireworks (and accompanied by a legit, widely-reported UFO sighting**). So, I wasn't trying to compare it to that.
Regardless, it was incredible-- 2 sets and over three hours of insatiable jams, a combo of electro/trance and straight-up rock.
Although at one point, the cops-- real, live, legit COPS; lots of them-- showed up and it got... not necessarily scary but real awkward.
But anyway. Before any "hippie" accusations are made, let me just say-- I have never purchased a recording of a jam I was at to listen to later; I NEVER LISTEN TO ANY RECORDED JAM. I am live-only with jam, as I am with jazz. I think listening to recorded jam, jazz and a few couple other things is kind of like watching Jurassic Park on mute: not quite worth what's lost in translation. So I just won't do it. But I looooove, love going to a good jam show.
This was the second time I've seen Biscoes; the first time was on the very first night of Rothbury. And, believe it, they wailed. Of course, in that context, they were completely in their element; jam and festies go together like peas 'n' carrots. And though it was certainly no Rothbury-- no half-a-million hippies, no men in skirts, no $9 beers (close, though) and no filthy porta-potties either-- the psychedelic lighting scheme, grotesque statues and general craziness of K-zoo's State Theatre definitely make a great backdrop for a jam band. I had a KILLER time and so did everyone I saw who didn't get dragged out by cops. (special "good luck" shoutouts go to the guy I nicknamed Hunter S. Thompson, hotdog suit guy, and white-jacket-and-no shirt-guy; don't drop the soap.)
WOAH! Speaking of my fellow stage-rushers, GUESS WHO I RAN INTO?
ANGEL!!!!!!!!!!!
You might remember Angel from Rootstand at Bell's sometime last month! HE WAS THERE! Equal parts flamboyant, fabulous, shirtless and sweaty. Angel, if you're reading this-- you are my favorite fixture in the Kalamazoo music scene, officially. (Sorry, Rock and the Hive-- second place will have to do. Even though I lost a chunk of my left "index" toe at your last show. Oh, read on!)
HOUSE SHOW MONDAY 10/26
Ask "who parties on a Monday?" in the student ghetto and the answer will be a resounding "We do! Fuck class tomorrow-- fuck my future! Let's get wasted and watch music!"
Yeah, boi! I love this town. (Or, this part of town.)
Soooo... there I was, in a dark, extremely crowded basement, trying desperately to not think of Great White. I don't remember who the first band was, but I don't think they were good. So, anyway, the Rock and the Hive played-- awesome-- and the requisite crowd-at-a-show chaos commenced; at one point, it vaguely occurred to me that my toe hurt; after TRATH, we were heading upstairs, and I notice my foot feels sticky. I assume someone spilled beer on it-- which they may have-- but as we come into the light, I realize my left foot is completely covered in blood. I'm spare you the (literally) gory details, but a small chunk of the tip of my toe is literally gone as we speak. Sorry, Girls Whose House That Was; I'm hoping you didn't go downstairs to clean up after the show and find a floor covered in blood; that would have been unsettling.
Sorry for the gross toe story. I'm just saying. A good show is sometimes worth losing a piece of one of your appendages. I'm also saying, unless you are ABSOLUTELY SURE you are NOT going to a show later, don't wear sandals, even if it is unseasonably warm.
So... where do we go from here?
Oh!
The best part of that show! KOJI!!!
So, I walk into the house, and my friend introduces me to a soft-spoken Asian kid with glasses; fast-forward three hours later: I'm watching this kid; he is standing on a barstool in the middle of a crowd playing songs, singing his heart out. This was a good "expect the unexpected" moment in my life. I'm not entirely sure why he chose this particular way to exhibit his (amazing) musical talents, or even if it was entirely by choice (word on the street was there was some sort of gear malfunction). Because of this, I'm not really sure what form his music "usually" takes, but I would be fine if it sounded just like it sounded in that crowded living room: literally, completely organic acoustic-and-voice-only emo (hate that word!!! ugh). But, I tried to find some of his music so I could get a link to you guys and I can't find right anything now; I will let you know ASAP when I get a hold of something.
Ah. Those those were the Halloween-week festivities! It's over!!! In related news; they're starting to put up Christmas decorations at Macy's! (just kidding, but seriously, they probably are).
*1.) any recorded album gets no fewer than 5 listens before a review 2.) never review a show when you are drunk; you will take shitty notes 3.) keep it as real as possible and always maintain your swagger. 4.) no excuses, play like a champion
** this is true, documented and literally had nothing to do with psychedelics. (not sarcastic).
But let's just say I had a Halloween blast. Which is rare, and also ironic, because I HATE HALLOWEEN. That's right. I said it. But, suffice it to say, Halloween: 21; Meg: 0. I always say I'm not going to do anything for Halloween because it is just a dangerous, awkward waste of time, an appalling capitalist mechanism, etc, etc, etc-- but I always go.
But, it all started on the actual night of Halloween, when I was meeting my folks for a very low-key, very Mexican, very anti-Halloween dinner. But, as I was getting in my car, it dawned on me that this is the first year that I have not heard "The Monster Mash!" Anywhere! At all! Its hard to admit, but as a lifelong Midwesterner, I felt a secret pang of guilt for my blatant ignoring of our collective favorite nod to the occult. For some reason, this year I went off-the-rails crazy Halloween-Scrooge to a level that even I have not yet reached. So maybe I did hear it and just repressed it. But I don't think so. So anyway, I get to Mi Ranchito, and then there is this bartender (who, I regret to say, knows me and everyone in my family by name) dressed like Charlie Brown who pours me a shot on the house, a "Dirty Girl Scout" (hey-oh), and after that, I was a lot more in the Halloween spirit (and couldn't stop saying "hey-oh!" for some reason). And then, at one point, I realize I'm texting everyone I know asking what they are doing tonight, and although I was recovering from a cold, some Halloween miracle stipulated that the duration of my moonlight as Nastycough McSleepsallday was over (or something to that effect).
I wanted to see some music. So, one perpetually-grouchy doorman and a $7 cover charge later, I found myself at the Covert Operations show at Papa Pete's. After nearly an hour of watery drinks and almost-crunchy jams, I found my faith in Halloween yet unrestored.
Usually, I probably would have just settled for the usual drunken stumble around the student ghetto as a vacuous legionnaire of a pathetic college alcoholiday. But, I was in the jam band spirit. You see, I had gone to:
DISCO BISCUITS AT STATE THEATRE 10/28 (did you like what I did there? Segway into a heading?)
Ok, you're right, it's one of my cardinal Blog Rules of Thumb* that I don't write about shows I see not-sober. So I'm not going to go on and on about this vibe and this mechanical flawlessness and this meticulous execution and whatever else I talk about in this strange forum I've vainly and inexplicably created.
--I digress; the show. Um-- I haven't seen a jam band since Rothbury. And that was Umphrey's McGee, just after the Dead, backlit by an amazing display of 4th of July fireworks (and accompanied by a legit, widely-reported UFO sighting**). So, I wasn't trying to compare it to that.
Regardless, it was incredible-- 2 sets and over three hours of insatiable jams, a combo of electro/trance and straight-up rock.
Although at one point, the cops-- real, live, legit COPS; lots of them-- showed up and it got... not necessarily scary but real awkward.
But anyway. Before any "hippie" accusations are made, let me just say-- I have never purchased a recording of a jam I was at to listen to later; I NEVER LISTEN TO ANY RECORDED JAM. I am live-only with jam, as I am with jazz. I think listening to recorded jam, jazz and a few couple other things is kind of like watching Jurassic Park on mute: not quite worth what's lost in translation. So I just won't do it. But I looooove, love going to a good jam show.
This was the second time I've seen Biscoes; the first time was on the very first night of Rothbury. And, believe it, they wailed. Of course, in that context, they were completely in their element; jam and festies go together like peas 'n' carrots. And though it was certainly no Rothbury-- no half-a-million hippies, no men in skirts, no $9 beers (close, though) and no filthy porta-potties either-- the psychedelic lighting scheme, grotesque statues and general craziness of K-zoo's State Theatre definitely make a great backdrop for a jam band. I had a KILLER time and so did everyone I saw who didn't get dragged out by cops. (special "good luck" shoutouts go to the guy I nicknamed Hunter S. Thompson, hotdog suit guy, and white-jacket-and-no shirt-guy; don't drop the soap.)
WOAH! Speaking of my fellow stage-rushers, GUESS WHO I RAN INTO?
ANGEL!!!!!!!!!!!
You might remember Angel from Rootstand at Bell's sometime last month! HE WAS THERE! Equal parts flamboyant, fabulous, shirtless and sweaty. Angel, if you're reading this-- you are my favorite fixture in the Kalamazoo music scene, officially. (Sorry, Rock and the Hive-- second place will have to do. Even though I lost a chunk of my left "index" toe at your last show. Oh, read on!)
HOUSE SHOW MONDAY 10/26
Ask "who parties on a Monday?" in the student ghetto and the answer will be a resounding "We do! Fuck class tomorrow-- fuck my future! Let's get wasted and watch music!"
Yeah, boi! I love this town. (Or, this part of town.)
Soooo... there I was, in a dark, extremely crowded basement, trying desperately to not think of Great White. I don't remember who the first band was, but I don't think they were good. So, anyway, the Rock and the Hive played-- awesome-- and the requisite crowd-at-a-show chaos commenced; at one point, it vaguely occurred to me that my toe hurt; after TRATH, we were heading upstairs, and I notice my foot feels sticky. I assume someone spilled beer on it-- which they may have-- but as we come into the light, I realize my left foot is completely covered in blood. I'm spare you the (literally) gory details, but a small chunk of the tip of my toe is literally gone as we speak. Sorry, Girls Whose House That Was; I'm hoping you didn't go downstairs to clean up after the show and find a floor covered in blood; that would have been unsettling.
Sorry for the gross toe story. I'm just saying. A good show is sometimes worth losing a piece of one of your appendages. I'm also saying, unless you are ABSOLUTELY SURE you are NOT going to a show later, don't wear sandals, even if it is unseasonably warm.
So... where do we go from here?
Oh!
The best part of that show! KOJI!!!
So, I walk into the house, and my friend introduces me to a soft-spoken Asian kid with glasses; fast-forward three hours later: I'm watching this kid; he is standing on a barstool in the middle of a crowd playing songs, singing his heart out. This was a good "expect the unexpected" moment in my life. I'm not entirely sure why he chose this particular way to exhibit his (amazing) musical talents, or even if it was entirely by choice (word on the street was there was some sort of gear malfunction). Because of this, I'm not really sure what form his music "usually" takes, but I would be fine if it sounded just like it sounded in that crowded living room: literally, completely organic acoustic-and-voice-only emo (hate that word!!! ugh). But, I tried to find some of his music so I could get a link to you guys and I can't find right anything now; I will let you know ASAP when I get a hold of something.
Ah. Those those were the Halloween-week festivities! It's over!!! In related news; they're starting to put up Christmas decorations at Macy's! (just kidding, but seriously, they probably are).
*1.) any recorded album gets no fewer than 5 listens before a review 2.) never review a show when you are drunk; you will take shitty notes 3.) keep it as real as possible and always maintain your swagger. 4.) no excuses, play like a champion
** this is true, documented and literally had nothing to do with psychedelics. (not sarcastic).
Friday, October 09, 2009
Barking Tuna 2009 NIGHT THREE PREVIEW!
That's right, kids. The full monty, the prestigious Night Three of the Tuna! Here's a little bit of what's going down.
Night Three: Sat 10/10/09 at State Theater
Fruit Bats (Chicago) {pop/folk-rock} [http://www.myspace.com/thefruitbats]
I have to say, on behalf of all Kalamazoo music geeks, it is really exciting that Fruit Bats are playing Barking Tuna this year. Led by singer-songwriter Eric Johnson (no, not that Eric Johnson, guitar nerds), Fruit Bats have been around with various lineups for the past several years, and signed to Sub Pop since '02. They have even played alongside indie heroes the Shins. Also, after they play this show, they are embarking on a European tour... But enough credentials and nerdery.
As for the music. Not to get all Carrie Bradshaw but...
"When listening to this band, I couldn't help but wonder: is there such a thing as too indie?"
My answer: no. And if there is, Fruit Bats aren't (Bright Eyes? maybe?). I just impulsively bought this band's music from their Myspace, and you know you like music when you pay for it. Tell you what... before you go to the show on Saturday, do yourself a favor, and listen to the music, because you're going to want to sing along. I promise. Check out "When U Love Somebody."
Small Brown Bike (Marshall, MI) {screamo} [http://www.myspace.com/smallbrownbike04]
Don't get mad at me, K-zoo scene kids, but... Yikes.
Just yikes.
Not to be a snob, but how did an screamo band from Marshall land this spot anyway? Screamo is over. It should have never happened and it's done now. Acclimate!
Can I please go back to Fruit Bats?!
Notes To Self (Toronto) {hip-hop} [http://www.myspace.com/notestoself]
This is another opportunity we don't get in Kalamazoo a whole lot: A GOOD HIP-HOP SHOW!!!
I want to reiterate what I said about bluegrass last weekend: just because you think it's not your scene doesn't mean you won't have a completely awesome time. Not only is hip-hop fairly rare to come by as far as live music goes, Kalamazoo doesn't really have the facilities, a following or a much of a scene at all for hip-hop. [P.S. This is something I've wanted to talk about for a long time, and I feel now is the time to discuss it. "Hip-hop" and "rap" are not the same thing. "Rapping" is the VOCAL PART of "hip-hop" music. That would be like calling rock music "singing" or "shouting," neither of which you would ever do, right?] [Thanks for humoring me there. Just a little pet peeve I had to shout.]
So, moving on, as a closet hip-hop enthusiast, I am PSYCHED for Notes To Self. Notes to Self is from Toronto, but they have a distinct West Coast influence: hypnotically smooth, swaying beats riding under articulate rapping that ranges from defiant to introspective and even psychological ("I'm about me/ I never got enough me as a child").
I'm digging the studio work posted on their Myspace, but, like all hip-hop acts, I'm sure their live show will produce a completely different sound. So I'm interested for now, and stoked for tomorrow night. Because, as you can see, it's official: THIS ENTIRE SHOW IS GOING TO BE AMAZING.
The Verdict:
Fruit Bats-- You are magical and beautiful.
Small Brown Bike-- I still have faith in you. I'm just a little perplexed. Not judgin'!
Notes To Self-- Please stay here in Kalamazoo! And bring your friends! Live, good hip-hop every weekend? That would be great. Canada sucks anyway.
See you guys at the show!
Night Three: Sat 10/10/09 at State Theater
Fruit Bats (Chicago) {pop/folk-rock} [http://www.myspace.com/thefruitbats]
I have to say, on behalf of all Kalamazoo music geeks, it is really exciting that Fruit Bats are playing Barking Tuna this year. Led by singer-songwriter Eric Johnson (no, not that Eric Johnson, guitar nerds), Fruit Bats have been around with various lineups for the past several years, and signed to Sub Pop since '02. They have even played alongside indie heroes the Shins. Also, after they play this show, they are embarking on a European tour... But enough credentials and nerdery.
As for the music. Not to get all Carrie Bradshaw but...
"When listening to this band, I couldn't help but wonder: is there such a thing as too indie?"
My answer: no. And if there is, Fruit Bats aren't (Bright Eyes? maybe?). I just impulsively bought this band's music from their Myspace, and you know you like music when you pay for it. Tell you what... before you go to the show on Saturday, do yourself a favor, and listen to the music, because you're going to want to sing along. I promise. Check out "When U Love Somebody."
Small Brown Bike (Marshall, MI) {screamo} [http://www.myspace.com/smallbrownbike04]
Don't get mad at me, K-zoo scene kids, but... Yikes.
Just yikes.
Not to be a snob, but how did an screamo band from Marshall land this spot anyway? Screamo is over. It should have never happened and it's done now. Acclimate!
Can I please go back to Fruit Bats?!
Notes To Self (Toronto) {hip-hop} [http://www.myspace.com/notestoself]
This is another opportunity we don't get in Kalamazoo a whole lot: A GOOD HIP-HOP SHOW!!!
I want to reiterate what I said about bluegrass last weekend: just because you think it's not your scene doesn't mean you won't have a completely awesome time. Not only is hip-hop fairly rare to come by as far as live music goes, Kalamazoo doesn't really have the facilities, a following or a much of a scene at all for hip-hop. [P.S. This is something I've wanted to talk about for a long time, and I feel now is the time to discuss it. "Hip-hop" and "rap" are not the same thing. "Rapping" is the VOCAL PART of "hip-hop" music. That would be like calling rock music "singing" or "shouting," neither of which you would ever do, right?] [Thanks for humoring me there. Just a little pet peeve I had to shout.]
So, moving on, as a closet hip-hop enthusiast, I am PSYCHED for Notes To Self. Notes to Self is from Toronto, but they have a distinct West Coast influence: hypnotically smooth, swaying beats riding under articulate rapping that ranges from defiant to introspective and even psychological ("I'm about me/ I never got enough me as a child").
I'm digging the studio work posted on their Myspace, but, like all hip-hop acts, I'm sure their live show will produce a completely different sound. So I'm interested for now, and stoked for tomorrow night. Because, as you can see, it's official: THIS ENTIRE SHOW IS GOING TO BE AMAZING.
The Verdict:
Fruit Bats-- You are magical and beautiful.
Small Brown Bike-- I still have faith in you. I'm just a little perplexed. Not judgin'!
Notes To Self-- Please stay here in Kalamazoo! And bring your friends! Live, good hip-hop every weekend? That would be great. Canada sucks anyway.
See you guys at the show!
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Barking Tuna 2009 NIGHT ONE PREVIEW!
I'm hoping everyone is ready for Kalamazoo's music event of the year: WIDR's Barking Tuna Festival. While a 3-night pass for $25 is pretty reasonable (available at WIDR and Corner Record Shop [which is awesome by the way]), you're probably just going to want to scope out what you're into and check out a few bands, because 9 in three nights is a lot... lucky you've got me.
So any way, what I'm going to do is post a preview of each night detailing who is playing and (vaguely) what to expect. Here's night one!
Night One: Thurs 10/08/09 at the Strutt
Airborne or Aquatic (Northern MI) {jam} [http://www.myspace.com/airborneoraquatic]
After one listen to Airborne or Aquatic, a semi- experimental jam band, you might write them off as yet another faux-Southern-trad (roots/folk/bluegrass) band like the legion of others that keep cropping up in the Midwest. And that response is half-right; songs like "Moose Man" had the effect of (as Butthead brilliantly said in response to a Nine Inch Nails video) "great, but, frankly... it's been done." But, on other tracks, you'll find AOA with a more organic sound and an appealingly melancholy vibe, (check out the spoken-word interlude on "Smoke in the Rain") and you might find that they bring a little something different to the table. Their accessibility and political/ social consciousness go together like thrift-shop tshirts and Urban Outfitters jeans... different, uncanny, mismatched and completely harmonious. I can't help but feel like they will probably go over extremely well tonight... this is Kalamazoo, after all.
The Daredevil Christopher Wright (Eau Claire, Wisconsin) {indie} [http://www.myspace.com/thedaredevilchristopherwright]
I hate to say this so soon, but I am already impressed with this act. The Wisconsin 3-piece has upcoming shows all over the country-- in the midwest, Colorado, Washington, California-- one of which is with Bon Iver (!). This band possesses such an unbelievable musical awareness and aptitude, weaving pop-indie with classical instruments (notably on the breathtaking "Hospital/ The East Coast). While, at times, they adhere to the monolithic indie status quo, they are still incredibly fresh and innovative (check out the ironically blithe "Bury You Alive"). I can. not. wait. to see this band tonight.
Boy In Static (San Francisco, California) {indie} [http://www.myspace.com/boyinstatic]
Somewhere between The Postal Service and My Bloody Valentine lies the sound of Boy In Static: wispy, melodic shoegazer driven by a quiet passion. There is a gentle intensity to their music-- a surreal synth-viola duo with intimate, close-sounding vocals-- with an effect that resounds inside you like the beating of your own heart. While I'm wondering how this 2-piece is going to pull off live what can be done fairly easily in the studio, I am nonetheless looking forward to this.
So, needless to say, tonight's gonna be a good night. Hope to see you guys at the Strutt.
So any way, what I'm going to do is post a preview of each night detailing who is playing and (vaguely) what to expect. Here's night one!
Night One: Thurs 10/08/09 at the Strutt
Airborne or Aquatic (Northern MI) {jam} [http://www.myspace.com/airborneoraquatic]
After one listen to Airborne or Aquatic, a semi- experimental jam band, you might write them off as yet another faux-Southern-trad (roots/folk/bluegrass) band like the legion of others that keep cropping up in the Midwest. And that response is half-right; songs like "Moose Man" had the effect of (as Butthead brilliantly said in response to a Nine Inch Nails video) "great, but, frankly... it's been done." But, on other tracks, you'll find AOA with a more organic sound and an appealingly melancholy vibe, (check out the spoken-word interlude on "Smoke in the Rain") and you might find that they bring a little something different to the table. Their accessibility and political/ social consciousness go together like thrift-shop tshirts and Urban Outfitters jeans... different, uncanny, mismatched and completely harmonious. I can't help but feel like they will probably go over extremely well tonight... this is Kalamazoo, after all.
The Daredevil Christopher Wright (Eau Claire, Wisconsin) {indie} [http://www.myspace.com/thedaredevilchristopherwright]
I hate to say this so soon, but I am already impressed with this act. The Wisconsin 3-piece has upcoming shows all over the country-- in the midwest, Colorado, Washington, California-- one of which is with Bon Iver (!). This band possesses such an unbelievable musical awareness and aptitude, weaving pop-indie with classical instruments (notably on the breathtaking "Hospital/ The East Coast). While, at times, they adhere to the monolithic indie status quo, they are still incredibly fresh and innovative (check out the ironically blithe "Bury You Alive"). I can. not. wait. to see this band tonight.
Boy In Static (San Francisco, California) {indie} [http://www.myspace.com/boyinstatic]
Somewhere between The Postal Service and My Bloody Valentine lies the sound of Boy In Static: wispy, melodic shoegazer driven by a quiet passion. There is a gentle intensity to their music-- a surreal synth-viola duo with intimate, close-sounding vocals-- with an effect that resounds inside you like the beating of your own heart. While I'm wondering how this 2-piece is going to pull off live what can be done fairly easily in the studio, I am nonetheless looking forward to this.
So, needless to say, tonight's gonna be a good night. Hope to see you guys at the Strutt.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Shows This Weekend
There's only one right way to kick off Rocktober: first weekend, 3 shows in 3 nights. Fall is always the best time to go to shows, and there certainly has been a lot going on lately. And I dig it.
Fri 10/2: Brand New w/ Manchester Orchestra, the Fillmore (Detroit)
I'm somewhat stoked to say, yet somewhat hesitant to admit that I might have known about this show before any of you guys: because I am on Manchester Orchestra's mailing list. Please take in everything else I am about to say about this show with that very telling fact in mind. Yes, MO is my favorite of many favorite bands. But I am trying, at least in this context, to maintain any attainable level of neutrality. Just so you know.
So... 3 hours of driving, a clandestine detour in Ann Arbor, and a $20 ramp parking fee (damn you, Fillmore, for being across the street from Comerica Park on game night) later, Manchester took the stage. Their frontman, singer/ songwriter/ guitar player/ indie caricature Andy Hull possesses this kind of Thoreauvian wildness that makes this band so ungodly addicting to see live; I could not imagine anyone else who would look as at-home as an Alaskan crabfisherman, or living in a schoolbus a la Gary Busey in Black Sheep, as he does onstage. But I guess that's neither here nor there. What matters is they fucking rocked, and always do, but-- in the immortal words of a nameless American icon-- that's all I have to say about that.
Excuse me while I pause to sweep up any remaining shreds of credibility so that I may continue. Thanks.
What I really want to talk about is Brand New's performance. I'm not quite sure how to say this, but what happened from 10:05 until about 11:20 pm EST at the Fillmore, was something that was so gut-wrenchingly, soul-crushingly, traumatically beautiful that part of me feels like it should never happen again. But that would be so wrong.
I'm trying to think of a way to tell you what it feels like to see Brand New. Actually, I've been trying for days. So imagine a rioting crowd, all flannel-covered elbows and stomping Chuck Taylors, juxtaposed against a low-lit stage, the enigmatic Jesse Lacey in the middle, gripping his Telecaster like a machine gun; projected behind it all is a surreal black-and-white slideshow-esque film. Almost too many dimensions of amazing.
I immediately felt guilty for-- yikes-- not liking their new album. But I was pleasantly surprised when they opened with "You Won't Know" and wove a cleverly anachronistic set list which I wanted to share with you now, but it didn't feel right to write it down. Needless to say, that night was just one of those nights where you fall in love with music all over again.
Music, I wish I knew how to quit you.
A.D.D. Sidenote: in between sets, I ran into Jeremiah, the drummer from Manchester!!! Ever the annoying fan, I hugged him and basically thanked him for being so awesome... my best friend and I Wayne-and-Garthified and the resulting conversation basically went something like, "Jeremiah, we're not worthy!!!" But he was unbelievably humble and nice. Amazing.
The requisite post-show 12,000-calorie Greektown visit and coma that commenced make that night's memories a little foggy, but needless to say... that show... Wow. Ridiculous.
Hopefully by the time I'm a real writer I'll think of better ways to say things than that.
Sat 10/3: Rootstand at Bell's (Kalamazoo)
The story of Saturday night is more of a... story... than just a show. I'll explain.
One of my housemates is a banjo player (legit!) and has been in a few bluegrass bands around Kalamazoo, so, luckily, when the occasion arises, I often have an excuse to go to bluegrass shows. I have to admit the bluegrass culture in Kalamazoo was something I was not very familiar until this summer, especially with the college crowd, but I am pleased to have found reassurance that there will be hippies-- and resulting mountain-bluegrass jam seshes-- in every generation. And, after all, it's about the music and not the scene, right? So it's ok to sometimes succumb to one's various hippie persuasions.
Before you laugh, if you have never experienced a legit bluegrass SHOW-- let alone a festival-- there is nothing quite like being out there two-stepping with the hippies. It's amazing. Bluegrass is a lot like ska in that if you're there, you're a (bluegrass/ ska)-PERSON: you're a fan, you know the music, you (two-step/ skank), you're starting a band next week, that's your thing. So don't judge yourself if you want to grab a frosty microbrew and load up the Forester to go to the festie and rage some kind nugs. It's ok. You've always wanted to, right? And that's what bluegrass is about. It just feels good.
So, Saturday night. I'm sitting at my apartment reading and another housemate knocks on my door, hammered, and asks if I'm going to Bells tonight. I was vaguely confused, but game (such is my life). What commenced was an interesting night with a lot of interesting details that might not be appropriate to publish here.
Oh shit, I promised you a story. Well, Drunk Neighbor got kicked out of Bell's, and since I never leave a homie hangin', I took him back home. But I went back. Cause Rootstand had another set.
The tunes were AMAZING... With that traditional Southern bluegrass stomp and Rootstand's adorable weirdness (like "Disc Golf Life": you can download here [http://www.rootstand.com/index.php?ppge=music]), you'll be out there throwing your 'bows up and steppin' in no time. At the very least, you are almost guaranteed to make friends-- among mine that night were an old Deadhead named Angel (yes, a guy) and a Chicagoan (?) college-hippie who was on a Great Lakes brewery tour with his buddies. Awesome.
Suffice it to say, I would highly, highly recommend getting out to see Rootstand--or any bluegrass show-- if you get a chance. Even if you think it's not your thing. You never know, brah!
Sun 10/4: Lake Louise at the Factory (Rochester)
While I, admittedly, completely abandoned any neutrality/ cred and geeked out over my favorite band in a medium that I would like to be somewhat professional, I simply cannot discuss this show from any critical standpoint, as Lake Louise is a stagename for a very good friend of mine. However, I must give credit where credit is due: many, many props to Lake Louise for holding her own as a (1.) female (2.) solo (3.) FOLK act. Indulge me for a brief moment while I comment on the refreshing ingenuity of those virtues in and of themselves. The resulting music possesses everything good about 60s protest-folk with a Fiona Apple-esque femininity, and a little reluctant country-ness. You may check her out at [http://www.myspace.com/angelacarlton].
Needless to say, anoher good night. And you're probably not in the mood for another story, but moments ago, I nutshelled it to a friend as, "I met an old guy from New Zealand, an old guy from England, and a roadie for Miley Cyrus at an Irish pub in Detroit." And that's how that night went.
So those were the shows this weekend. PS: pretty sure I'm going deaf.
Please stay updated for WIDR's BARKING TUNA FESTIVAL coverage this weekend! I will be at all three shows, so until then, check out what's going on on WIDR and their site [http://www.widr.org/].
-thejunkie
Fri 10/2: Brand New w/ Manchester Orchestra, the Fillmore (Detroit)
I'm somewhat stoked to say, yet somewhat hesitant to admit that I might have known about this show before any of you guys: because I am on Manchester Orchestra's mailing list. Please take in everything else I am about to say about this show with that very telling fact in mind. Yes, MO is my favorite of many favorite bands. But I am trying, at least in this context, to maintain any attainable level of neutrality. Just so you know.
So... 3 hours of driving, a clandestine detour in Ann Arbor, and a $20 ramp parking fee (damn you, Fillmore, for being across the street from Comerica Park on game night) later, Manchester took the stage. Their frontman, singer/ songwriter/ guitar player/ indie caricature Andy Hull possesses this kind of Thoreauvian wildness that makes this band so ungodly addicting to see live; I could not imagine anyone else who would look as at-home as an Alaskan crabfisherman, or living in a schoolbus a la Gary Busey in Black Sheep, as he does onstage. But I guess that's neither here nor there. What matters is they fucking rocked, and always do, but-- in the immortal words of a nameless American icon-- that's all I have to say about that.
Excuse me while I pause to sweep up any remaining shreds of credibility so that I may continue. Thanks.
What I really want to talk about is Brand New's performance. I'm not quite sure how to say this, but what happened from 10:05 until about 11:20 pm EST at the Fillmore, was something that was so gut-wrenchingly, soul-crushingly, traumatically beautiful that part of me feels like it should never happen again. But that would be so wrong.
I'm trying to think of a way to tell you what it feels like to see Brand New. Actually, I've been trying for days. So imagine a rioting crowd, all flannel-covered elbows and stomping Chuck Taylors, juxtaposed against a low-lit stage, the enigmatic Jesse Lacey in the middle, gripping his Telecaster like a machine gun; projected behind it all is a surreal black-and-white slideshow-esque film. Almost too many dimensions of amazing.
I immediately felt guilty for-- yikes-- not liking their new album. But I was pleasantly surprised when they opened with "You Won't Know" and wove a cleverly anachronistic set list which I wanted to share with you now, but it didn't feel right to write it down. Needless to say, that night was just one of those nights where you fall in love with music all over again.
Music, I wish I knew how to quit you.
A.D.D. Sidenote: in between sets, I ran into Jeremiah, the drummer from Manchester!!! Ever the annoying fan, I hugged him and basically thanked him for being so awesome... my best friend and I Wayne-and-Garthified and the resulting conversation basically went something like, "Jeremiah, we're not worthy!!!" But he was unbelievably humble and nice. Amazing.
The requisite post-show 12,000-calorie Greektown visit and coma that commenced make that night's memories a little foggy, but needless to say... that show... Wow. Ridiculous.
Hopefully by the time I'm a real writer I'll think of better ways to say things than that.
Sat 10/3: Rootstand at Bell's (Kalamazoo)
The story of Saturday night is more of a... story... than just a show. I'll explain.
One of my housemates is a banjo player (legit!) and has been in a few bluegrass bands around Kalamazoo, so, luckily, when the occasion arises, I often have an excuse to go to bluegrass shows. I have to admit the bluegrass culture in Kalamazoo was something I was not very familiar until this summer, especially with the college crowd, but I am pleased to have found reassurance that there will be hippies-- and resulting mountain-bluegrass jam seshes-- in every generation. And, after all, it's about the music and not the scene, right? So it's ok to sometimes succumb to one's various hippie persuasions.
Before you laugh, if you have never experienced a legit bluegrass SHOW-- let alone a festival-- there is nothing quite like being out there two-stepping with the hippies. It's amazing. Bluegrass is a lot like ska in that if you're there, you're a (bluegrass/ ska)-PERSON: you're a fan, you know the music, you (two-step/ skank), you're starting a band next week, that's your thing. So don't judge yourself if you want to grab a frosty microbrew and load up the Forester to go to the festie and rage some kind nugs. It's ok. You've always wanted to, right? And that's what bluegrass is about. It just feels good.
So, Saturday night. I'm sitting at my apartment reading and another housemate knocks on my door, hammered, and asks if I'm going to Bells tonight. I was vaguely confused, but game (such is my life). What commenced was an interesting night with a lot of interesting details that might not be appropriate to publish here.
Oh shit, I promised you a story. Well, Drunk Neighbor got kicked out of Bell's, and since I never leave a homie hangin', I took him back home. But I went back. Cause Rootstand had another set.
The tunes were AMAZING... With that traditional Southern bluegrass stomp and Rootstand's adorable weirdness (like "Disc Golf Life": you can download here [http://www.rootstand.com/index.php?ppge=music]), you'll be out there throwing your 'bows up and steppin' in no time. At the very least, you are almost guaranteed to make friends-- among mine that night were an old Deadhead named Angel (yes, a guy) and a Chicagoan (?) college-hippie who was on a Great Lakes brewery tour with his buddies. Awesome.
Suffice it to say, I would highly, highly recommend getting out to see Rootstand--or any bluegrass show-- if you get a chance. Even if you think it's not your thing. You never know, brah!
Sun 10/4: Lake Louise at the Factory (Rochester)
While I, admittedly, completely abandoned any neutrality/ cred and geeked out over my favorite band in a medium that I would like to be somewhat professional, I simply cannot discuss this show from any critical standpoint, as Lake Louise is a stagename for a very good friend of mine. However, I must give credit where credit is due: many, many props to Lake Louise for holding her own as a (1.) female (2.) solo (3.) FOLK act. Indulge me for a brief moment while I comment on the refreshing ingenuity of those virtues in and of themselves. The resulting music possesses everything good about 60s protest-folk with a Fiona Apple-esque femininity, and a little reluctant country-ness. You may check her out at [http://www.myspace.com/angelacarlton].
Needless to say, anoher good night. And you're probably not in the mood for another story, but moments ago, I nutshelled it to a friend as, "I met an old guy from New Zealand, an old guy from England, and a roadie for Miley Cyrus at an Irish pub in Detroit." And that's how that night went.
So those were the shows this weekend. PS: pretty sure I'm going deaf.
Please stay updated for WIDR's BARKING TUNA FESTIVAL coverage this weekend! I will be at all three shows, so until then, check out what's going on on WIDR and their site [http://www.widr.org/].
-thejunkie
Saturday, September 26, 2009
The Rock and the Hive: [Untitled EP] (review)
With an untitled EP released through Anjuno, The Rock and the Hive crafts some of the most fun indie I've heard locally in a long time. This EP weaves feel-good mellow rock and stoner-indie, reminiscent at times of everyone from Silversun Pickups and the Shins to Rod Stewart and the Pumpkins' more mellow stuff. While this album doesn't take a lot of risks musically and sounds a little... "familiar," TRATH (?) have a sound that is so damn agreeable, it makes it hard to hold it against them. The road-trippy first track, "Icharus Roadmaps," has a that catchy, head-bobby toe-tappiness that I love... and after that, I was pretty much hooked. Though they are at no point "edgy," they do, eventually, delve into slightly less-sunny places, notably on the sober, sullen "Three By Three:" bookended by an ambient intro and outro, the song itself seems to emerge from a noisy fog, unfolding and eventually disappearing back into it, in a way that feels magically lucid.
They even play the country-indie card on "(Untitled)" (wtf guys? start naming stuff) and even then I can't get mad at them... The Rock and the Hive are one of those bands who have created a sound that you can wake-n-bake to and listen to with your grandma with equal comfort and appropriateness. Their noncontroversial versatility seems to be working out for them: TRATH have gained a noticeable local following, and even landed a gig with U.K. act the Arctic Monkeys (along with fellow K-zoo band Dead Scene Radio) in September.
While this album breaks little ground, the Rock and the Hive pull it off with fluent musicianship and lyrics that are thoughtful without coming off as brooding... As far as four-track demos go, they pretty much nailed it. More, please?
-thejunkie
[Download at http://www.anjuno.com/profile/therockandthehive]
They even play the country-indie card on "(Untitled)" (wtf guys? start naming stuff) and even then I can't get mad at them... The Rock and the Hive are one of those bands who have created a sound that you can wake-n-bake to and listen to with your grandma with equal comfort and appropriateness. Their noncontroversial versatility seems to be working out for them: TRATH have gained a noticeable local following, and even landed a gig with U.K. act the Arctic Monkeys (along with fellow K-zoo band Dead Scene Radio) in September.
While this album breaks little ground, the Rock and the Hive pull it off with fluent musicianship and lyrics that are thoughtful without coming off as brooding... As far as four-track demos go, they pretty much nailed it. More, please?
-thejunkie
[Download at http://www.anjuno.com/profile/therockandthehive]
Hello Victor: 1623 [EP] (review)
Kalamazoo's short-lived indie band fairvue (2007) has apparently reassembled with a new take on the genre. Their EP, "1623," released online, contains a surprising range of sounds: the Brand New- rendered emo of the band's former incarnation with newfound sophistication. The result is something that comes of as classic indie-emo with a hint of pop sensibility. The EP's opener, "Really Me," is unabashedly radio-conscious, with a memorable riff and an explosive chorus that feels almost too big for the song; led by the confident-sounding guitar and shimmering, cymbal-driven percussion, it is overinflated by the overzealous vocal line; the contrast between the grandeur of the music and the impassioned vocals in this song should be-- and almost are-- appealing, but in this case the two elements seem to compete, and the resulting sound is a little anxious. Similarly, the inexplicably-titled "Beer 30," contains vocals so over-exertive, even listening to it is exhausting.
This band experiments with fusing different genres into their sound, most succesfully on the EP's highlight, "Put Your Head On Straight," a surprisingly unpretentious blend of Hello Victor's own unique brand of indie with near-ironic E Street camp. Overall, the result is a refreshingly present, conscious- sounding record. The EP simply sounds like a young band's first EP should sound: cautious and slightly underdeveloped, but well-meaning and with the grass roots of good things. They seem to be finding a reconciliation between the band's creative past and what sounds like a desire to reinvent themselves. It seems like we can expect good things from Hello Victor: with their already- solid stance within the Kalamazoo music scene, a little direction might be all they need to hone their sound.
Regardless, word on the street is that Hello Victor is/ will be signed to an indie label. So we'll see what happens...
-thejunkie
[Download at http://www.anjuno.com/profile/hellovictor]
This band experiments with fusing different genres into their sound, most succesfully on the EP's highlight, "Put Your Head On Straight," a surprisingly unpretentious blend of Hello Victor's own unique brand of indie with near-ironic E Street camp. Overall, the result is a refreshingly present, conscious- sounding record. The EP simply sounds like a young band's first EP should sound: cautious and slightly underdeveloped, but well-meaning and with the grass roots of good things. They seem to be finding a reconciliation between the band's creative past and what sounds like a desire to reinvent themselves. It seems like we can expect good things from Hello Victor: with their already- solid stance within the Kalamazoo music scene, a little direction might be all they need to hone their sound.
Regardless, word on the street is that Hello Victor is/ will be signed to an indie label. So we'll see what happens...
-thejunkie
[Download at http://www.anjuno.com/profile/hellovictor]
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